


How to Make it Work

by GealachGirl



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Cats, Established Relationship, M/M, Mick turned into the best character, military life, suggested Nate/Reporter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-03-31 23:58:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13986075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GealachGirl/pseuds/GealachGirl
Summary: Brad's in the Marines. Ray's out. And even though Brad has to come and go, they make do and life goes on.





	1. Shipping Out

The farmer’s market wasn’t too crowded on Tuesday evenings, so Ray had already darted several booths ahead and stood there examining peaches.

Brad hung back and watched, focused more on Ray and the way he studied every fruit. He loved farmer’s markets with a passion Brad attributed to growing up in Hicksville, Missouri, and there were enough in California that finding one on any given day was a matter of throwing a stone.

Besides, it got Ray out of the house and melted some of the tension from his shoulders.

And watching him drained some of Brad’s. He’d pushed it aside for the past couple of weeks, but it was harder to ignore now.

Two months ago, he’d gotten the order to report to base tomorrow morning for deployment overseas, and he’d been getting ready for weeks. But while Brad was always eager for new missions, something tugged at him hard enough to make him think about what it meant to leave.

And it was pretty much entirely on Ray.

“Come on Brad. I’ll win you one of those dragons,” Ray said, suddenly beaming beside him. Brad looked to the booth he was pointing at—because the farmer’s markets didn’t just have produce—and raised a doubtful eyebrow.

“Those are all rigged, you know,” he replied, already following. “To trick cocky, gullible idiots into throwing their money away.” Ray just rolled his eyes.

“Please, I was a hardcore killing machine. I think I can handle some balloons.”

So Brad stood back to watch as Ray approached the booth and picked up his five darts. Being here made him feel lighter, and he almost forgot about leaving.

Normally, Brad would channel his tension into surfing, or his motorcycle. Or just plain running. He’d always used those things to ground him in the past.

But now he didn’t feel the urge the way he used to. Instead, he was here with Ray. And when they left the market, he’d cook dinner and they would watch some shitty movie on the couch. Surfing and running still had their place, but they weren’t his first impulse anymore.

Ray came back a minute later, grinning and holding what was not a dragon. Brad quirked an eyebrow as it got closer, and he could see it was a stuffed platypus from the shelf underneath the dragons.

“The bastards cheated me out of my money,” Ray fake-grumbled.

“It’s a sad day when the oblivious have to join the real world,” he replied, adjusting the sack of fruit and vegetables they’d bought as he studied the prize. “I told you.”

Predictably, Ray brushed him off.

He held out the platypus and said, “It’s probably for the best. You’re still out chasing your dragons.”

His smile was almost too bright, but Brad smiled back as he took the stuffed animal. They both knew he would be gone within 24 hours.

 

“Dude, I’m just saying, as soon as you’re gone I’m eating nothing but pizza and enchiladas and there won’t be anyone to lecture me about proper nutrition,” Ray said from the doorway. He sounded eager, like Brad was cramping his style with vegetables.

He glanced over his shoulder to see Ray standing in the doorway, holding the cat and smiling like he was crazed. Brad could see all the other random bullshit queued up behind that first comment and shook his head. “Don’t complain to me then when you’re in the hospital for scurvy.”  

Ray always got like this when Brad was doing something to remove himself from civilian life. His eyes would take on a feverish shine and his mouth would go off like he’d ingested a whole bottle of Ripped Fuel. He talked about how great it would be to have the house to himself, fantasizing about what he would do without Brad around.

“Besides, you like my cooking,” Brad pointed out, stirring the pan on the stove.

Ray snorted behind him. “I have to say that. It’s the only way I get any food around here. Right, Mick?” The cat chirped, as if he was answering.

“Should I ask Poke to take care of the cat?” Brad asked mildly. “I don’t want to put too much of a burden on you.”

Ray scoffed. “Poke wouldn’t do any better, homes. He’d probably try to treat him like a dog or some shit. Leave him outside all by himself.” Ray’s tone shifted as he started talking to the cat.

Brad looked over his shoulder again to see Ray holding Mick to his chest, making exaggerated facial expressions and little noises, and then pausing for the cat to reply, like any whipped cat owner.

And Brad smiled, feeling a pang in his chest. Ray looked up at him then and, without saying anything, Brad knew he understood.

He always understood.

 

Brad’s bag was waiting by the front door, sagging in on itself. When he’d put it down, Mick had sniffed at it suspiciously until Brad shook the treat packet to get him away.

Now the cat was a conspicuous weight on his left shoulder, and he knew that when he got up in a few hours, Mick would follow him to beg as many treats as Brad would let him get away with.

Ray shifted in his sleep and Brad turned his attention back to him. He was on his stomach and pressed close, with his shoulder digging into Brad’s chest. And Brad was folded over him with one arm draped across his body.

They normally slept like this, but tonight Ray had burrowed in as soon as they’d hit the mattress, and Brad had instantly reached over to pull him closer. Tonight it was more necessary. It was everything they wouldn’t say. 

When he’d packed earlier, Ray had gone quiet and watchful, like the bedroom had become a minefield. He’d stayed away, in fact, taking it upon himself to hand-wash all of the dishes from dinner and then to stick them in the dishwasher.

Brad hadn’t been able to say anything to fix it, so he’d let it be.

Now, Ray’s skin was warm as he pressed into Brad, sharing it. Brad could feel his breath on his collarbone, steady and hot. In response, Brad tightened his arms and pressed his nose into Ray’s hair, breathing in the smell of home and peace.

He had to love the Marines.

 

He didn’t need his alarm to wake up on time—something in his body knew. But it was surprisingly difficult to untangle his body from Ray’s.

Mick was on the same wavelength, stretching on the side of the mattress as Brad carefully extracted himself from the bed. He froze when Ray stirred, but nothing else happened. So Brad pulled on the uniform he’d laid out and glanced back at Mick, who leapt to the floor to trail him to the kitchen.

“Okay,” Brad said quietly as the cat wound through his legs, looking up hopefully. “Okay, here you go, you freeloader.” He shook a ridiculous amount of treats into his hand and set them on the floor. Mick descended instantly.

He rolled his eyes and turned to put the packet back where it belonged. Then he leaned against the counter to watch the cat, and to kill some time. And then something caught his attention.

This early in the morning, Ray didn’t really talk and he usually went back to sleep. But here he was: standing in the doorway to the kitchen and coming closer with his eyes squinted against the low light. Brad had planned to go back to the bedroom to say goodbye, and he tried to let Ray know without having to break the silence. Ray nodded. They’d done this before.

And here, in the privacy of their home at 4 a.m., Brad relaxed.

He met Ray near the counter and pulled him close, like when they slept. Ray gripped back, digging his face into Brad’s chest. “You’re such a piece of shit.” His voice was muffled and it barely sounded like words, but Brad understood.

In reply, he leaned away just enough to press a kiss to the top of Ray’s head.

They finally let go, but Ray kept one hand on Brad’s sleeve and pulled himself up for a real kiss, and he drew it out for all he was worth. It made Brad want to stay in their kitchen for another minute, an hour, but he had a bus to catch.

“It’s just six months this time,” he said over Ray’s head, voice low, needing the reminder as much as Ray. He felt Ray nod into his chest before he stepped away to scoop up the cat, who was snooping around their legs.

Brad rubbed his head a few times and smiled at the instant purring, and then he handed him over to Ray, who he gave a last look-over to check for any cracks. But Ray was okay, he always was. Saying goodbye was the hardest part.

So Brad gave him one more little smile, and hoisted his bag onto his shoulder. Then he was through the door.


	2. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray's ready.

Ray had just gotten out of the shower when the text message came in. For a second, he was confused because he hadn’t seen this number in months, but he opened the message anyway, and found a picture of a flight confirmation.

And his heart leapt in his chest.

“Mick!” he said excitedly to the cat licking himself on the bookshelf. The cat looked up, clearly concerned. “Your other daddy’s coming home.” Mick looked at him for a few seconds before he went back to his business.

Ray looked at the picture again. Brad’s flight was in a week, so it was a bit earlier than Ray had expected him, but there was still time to get ready. He scooped Mick up and, despite his protest, carried the cat toward the kitchen to make a list.

    

The grocery store was surprisingly busy for a Tuesday night, but Ray didn’t mind. The bustle was nice. And on closer inspection, he realized most of the people were college students who looked like they were sleep-walking through the aisles. Though the sleeping aid section was a barren wasteland.

Except for one body.

“Nate?” Ray walked closer until he was sure. “It is you! What’s shaking LT?”

Nate looked surprised to be found and recognized, but he shifted to faint embarrassment in no time. He put the tiny bottle of Excedrin back on the shelf in exchange for a bigger one. “Hi Ray.”

“What the hell are you doing out here? I thought you were set up on the other side of the country.” Something about Nate’s body language told Ray he really didn’t want to talk about this, so Ray was intrigued.

“Well,” Nate said, turning pink. “Evan had an assignment out here and I can pretty much work from anywhere, so…I thought I’d come along.”

Ray was surprised, but he didn’t let it show. Reporter was good people and the LT had always responded to that. “Nice, how long do you think you’ll be around?” Nate visibly relaxed after Ray’s non-reaction.

“We’re not sure. He’s reporting on new training techniques, so it depends on what he gets. His editors sent him out here and I think it’s supposed to be a long-term project. What are you doing?”

While Nate talked, Ray had grabbed two different kinds of sleeping pills—one mild and one that could knock him out for over twelve hours.

“Oh, Brad’s coming home soon so I’m getting stuff ready for him,” he shook the box. “Poor bastard can’t sleep when he gets back, so I have to stay up and keep him from being stupid.” Stupid traditionally looked like running in the dark at three in the morning or collecting speeding tickets from the officers who always felt bad about pulling over a Marine.

Nate looked concerned. “Is he ever…?”

“No, it’s just Brad,” Ray replied. Nate nodded, though he didn’t look sure.

But he didn’t say anything, just told Ray to have a good night and to let them know when Brad was back so they could get together.

 

The first time Ray hadn’t believed it either. He’d been sure something terrible must have happened and Brad was trying to be a big strong man about it. But after everything went back to normal in a few days, Ray learned how to deal with it; though it had taken a few times to get it right.   

“Okay Mick, tonight I’m starting with the Luna and then on Thursday and Friday, I’m switching to the Kirkland.” Ray looked down at Mick, who was rubbing his face against the edge of a cabinet. “Does that sound good?” Mick meowed and jumped up to the counter before he bumped his head against Ray’s hand. “No, you sleep enough for everyone.”

Ray looked back to the mirror and saw the corner of the bedroom with all its pieces of him and Brad in the reflection. Sometimes it was hard to believe this was his life. It had been a couple years now, and Ray sometimes still looked in the mirror and did a double take.

But it was the only way he could imagine it. Brad didn’t let all his guards down for Poke. He didn’t talk about his hopes for the future with Nate. He didn’t tell his mom he couldn’t sleep when he came home.

So even if they didn’t talk at-length about their feelings, Brad told Ray all the important things, and they worked.

Because Brad knew Ray better than anyone else too.

So, Ray smiled and swallowed the sleeping pills before he picked up their cat and went to bed.

 

He woke up on Friday around noon and rolled over on the couch to look at the world around him. Mick was curled up on the floor in the sun, and everything seemed normal, if not brighter than when he’d gone to sleep. He’d taken the day off work so he could pack in the sleep before Brad came home tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Ray pushed a button on his phone and looked at the picture again to be sure, and it was still true. He took a deep breath and watched Mick sleeping in the sun for a few minutes, imagining the house filled again. Then he shifted and closed his eyes, and he went under knowing he’d have Brad back soon.

 

It was still eventful, even though they both knew better by now.

There was just something about seeing Brad walk through the airplane tunnel, one uniform among several. And something about the way Brad hugged him when they reached each other through the crowd.

Ray blamed his swell of feelings on the heightened emotions of everyone else around him, but then he pulled back and saw the look on Brad’s face, and he knew it didn’t matter.

Not when seeing Ray there did the same thing for Brad.

 

“God, I love this episode.”

On TV, Trey Parker and Matt Stone were eviscerating scientology and Brad had a stupid smile on his face because of the caption onscreen. Mick was balanced on his shoulder and Ray could hear him purring on full blast.

“I don’t know, in the scheme of religion-based episodes, the one with the spider pope is pretty awesome and there’s the red heifer episode, or any of the Mormon ones” Ray replied, reaching up to scratch Mick’s head. “Or the one where Jesus takes out terrorists to rescue Santa Claus.”

He felt Brad’s look more than he saw it and rolled his eyes. “Dude, Comedy Central plays reruns every night. Relax with the shock and awe.” He didn’t mention that he didn’t usually bother watching them or that he’d only done it because it was Brad’s favorite show.

But if Brad was suspicious there was more to it, he didn’t mention it, just hummed and leaned his head on the cat.

“Besides, the stoners have to have something to watch at 3 a.m., homes.” And when Ray looked over, he saw the smile Brad wore whenever Ray actually amused him. When Brad saw him looking, it settled into something softer and more permanent and he dug his arm out from between their bodies to settle it around Ray’s shoulder and pull him a bit closer.

 

The next morning—Morning? The sun was up and he remembered it being down, so it had to be—Ray downed the rest of his Red Bull and eyed the caffeine pills on the counter. He was more tempted than usual because they were nearing seventy-six hours and Brad was still too wired to sleep.

He knew Brad had noticed the increased stimulants, but neither one had to acknowledge it. Ray wasn’t going to sleep until Brad did, and he knew it, so the point was moot.

As he felt the Red Bull flush through his veins, Ray broke his staring contest with the pills. Brad was making breakfast, so Ray joined him in the kitchen—mostly to watch and to hand him things.

“What’s the story morning glory?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around Brad from behind. Brad hummed and absentmindedly patted Ray’s hands clasped on his chest.

“Swedish pancakes, eggs, and bacon,” he replied, turning his head.

He didn’t look too worse for wear, but circles were finally developing under his eyes. Ray didn’t think it would be too much longer now, but every time was different. Combat alertness was deeply ingrained and Brad was better at it than most.

“You know, maybe I do like your cooking after all,” Ray mused. Brad huffed a laugh and pushed him off with an elbow.

“See if you get any. Go be useful and get me a new spatula.”

 

It was when they were watching a movie hours later that it finally happened. Brad’s head dipped, and Ray turned his, only to see those blue eyes reappear.

He smiled slowly. “Feeling tired Iceman?” he asked—mostly to himself. Brad’s eyes were open, but he wasn’t sure they were seeing anything.

When Brad didn’t respond beyond a grunt, Ray turned the TV off and nudged Brad’s head off his shoulder as he stood up. Mick noticed his people moving and lifted his head to blink at them. Ray took hold of Brad’s wrists and pulled.

“Come on man. You’re not old enough for me to leave you here.”

“Fuck you.” Brad’s voice was low and grumbly, but he’d come back to earth and he stood without difficulty.

“Sorry homes, you need to sleep first,” Ray said. Brad didn’t argue.

They got to the bedroom and Brad seemed to have come back to himself, so he was less like a zombie while he got undressed.

Ray could feel the sleep creeping up on him, too and he looked at the bed with fondness for the first time in six months.

Maybe it would feel right again. Somehow, he’d gotten to the point where sleep wasn’t easy unless Brad was there, and if a small part of him hated that dependency, the rest of him didn’t give a shit because it felt so good.

That was when Brad came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Ray’s front, rolling the hem of his shirt over his head. “What the fuck’s taking so long, Person? Are you so touch-starved you can’t even perform basic functions anymore?”

Ray let himself get dragged into bed, too. “You wish,” he muttered, but the sleep was getting more insistent. “I was finally getting used to having all the room and blankets without worrying about you and your gigantic self taking over.”

Brad didn’t respond but to pull Ray closer and maneuver them so he could lie on his back with Ray on his stomach on top of him. From the end of the bed, Ray could hear the unmistakable _puft_ of the cat joining them.

“Does this work better?” Brad asked. His voice rumbled into Ray’s chest, only making the fight he was waging against sleep more difficult.     

“Yeah sure whatever,” he replied, pressing his face into Brad and closing his eyes at the feeling of skin-to-skin contact. He was aware of the comforter being draped over their bodies and he made himself more comfortable, smiling at the same time.

“I’m glad you’re home, Iceman,” he mumbled.

Brad’s reply came on the end of a yawn. “So am I.” Then his arms closed around Ray and they drifted off.

 

The sun was peeking through the window, pale and soft. It had to be early morning and Ray wondered why on earth he’d woken up for it.

He was still kind of on top of Brad, but they’d shifted so he was more beside him now. Brad was still fast asleep and his chest rose and fell, slow and steady. Mick was passed out on the pillow beside his head. Under normal circumstances, Ray never woke up before Brad, and he smiled watching him.

And the sun hit him just right, so the light tangled in his short hair and turned it a brighter yellow. He looked peaceful and warm, and Ray settled back down because he wanted to be part of it, even if he didn’t go back to sleep.

Being there was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you like it. 
> 
> And if you missed it, here are the links to the playlist. [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLrHqs9sH-T3MZ_2lpu4yVnbnSVbCp9Awh) and [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/gealachgirl/playlist/72RWWatU3LsHwwyLpK9HX3?si=TmmRLTNtTheJJYbOqfpXzg)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, I'm excited for all of you to read it. 
> 
> Part two coming in two weeks. Playlist in the meantime.


End file.
